Waking up felt completely ... wrong. I don't know of any other way to better explain it.

Throughout my long and rather eventful life, I've been sedated, drugged up, knocked out cold and blackout drunk more times than I can ever hope to remember, let alone count, under a stunningly diverse assortment of situations. I had never felt anything quite like this before though. It felt as if my thoughts and senses were actively being dulled by some outside force, keeping me asleep and sapping my strength. Fighting it off even a little, for but a few moments, took just about everything that I had and hurt my head like a son of a bitch.

It would have been so much easier to just let go – to let myself fall back into blissful, ignorant unconsciousness. But I wouldn't of course.

I'm just too damn stubborn for that.

I could still remember and reason just well enough to realize that something very strange was going on. Don't ask me how I could possibly tell, but it felt as if I had been attacked and that I had went down way too easily. And that little fact pissed me off royally.

Fuelled by my anger and indignation at being blindsided outside of my own home, I slowly, but steadily clawed my way back towards full awareness.

My sense of touch was the first to gradually come back into focus. I felt myself lying down, flat on my back. The surface that I was on was firmer than a mattress, but definitely much softer than being on the bare ground. For some reason, I also seemed to be buck naked. I tried to move my fingers and toes, but I don't believe that I managed to.

I admit that that was really worrisome. Being attacked and abducted was one thing - I would deal with it and eventually get even, but not being able to actually do anything about it honestly scared me.

Despite having been knocked out somehow by persons unknown, most likely taken to an unknown location, and not able to move, I was feeling surprisingly warm and comfortable. Besides the headache, there wasn't even any pain.

My hearing came back next. People were speaking nearby. At first it was very faint and muffled, seeming to come from far away, but it gradually became louder and clearer. The problem was that they didn't appear to be speaking English, or any other language that I knew, or had even heard before, for that matter. There were three distinct voices talking ... no, arguing with each other. Two sounded small, timid even with a pleasant almost sing-song quality to it. Though I couldn't understand what was being said, I had no problem understanding the fear and desperation in their almost sing-song tones. The last was louder, laced with anger and menace. Hoarse and a bit guttural, it almost sounded like an animal had somehow learned to speak.

I strained to move, or even pry open my eyes as the argument became more and more hostile, but to no avail.

The bestial voice grew louder, almost screaming and I could feel the unfettered hostility dripping off it. The other voices became faster and higher pitched - a sure sign of panic. Then there were the sound of heavy blows landing on flesh. There was a soft snap-click, a humm followed closely by a sizzling noise. Then there were screams, cries and whimpers of pain.

Someone was doling out a severe beating.

And that was all that I could take. No matter how much I would have liked to get up and do something for myself and whoever was getting his ass handed to him, the pain in my head and the sheer mental strain of climbing my way towards full consciousness was just too much.

Quickly, I felt myself sink back down into oblivion. Just before I did, though, I sensed one last thing ... the unmistakable smell of burnt hair and flesh.

The last thing that I could remember, I was relaxing on a lawn chair outside my brand new Airstream trailer, hitched behind my new second-hand ford pickup, calmly watching and appreciating the star-filled night sky. I was camped out near the Arches National Park in Utah, my stomach filled with spicy homemade chili, and a cold beer in my hand, my third of the night.

Some time ago I had been discharged from the US Marine Corps, at the rank of Gunnery Sergeant, after just under thirty years of faithful, diligent service. It wasn't exactly voluntary – I was pretty seriously wounded on deployment overseas and was medically discharged after recovering. I was past the big "four-oh", well on my way to fifty, and had absolutely no fucking idea what to do with the rest of my life, so for now I was just going to sit back and relax a while. With enough of a nest egg to last a couple of years, maybe up to a decade if I was really careful and stingy, I was just wandering around, seeing the country while I struggled to figure out just what the hell I wanted to do.

'Maybe I should get a dog. I haven't had one since I was a little kid. I'd sure appreciate the company.' I idly thought to myself.

'On the other hand, maybe I should concentrate on dating seriously.' I had gone out some and had my fair share of one-night stands over the last couple of years, but nothing really serious.

'Maybe it's time to try for a lasting relationship based on mutual love and respect ... and killer legs, with an ass that won't quit. A toned and tanned blonde with firm handful-sized breasts... '

OK, so it had actually been more than a few months since the last time I've been laid.

Thinking better about it, I nixed the whole "committed relationship" thing. For a while at least. Having been burned by divorce twice, I honestly didn't think that I was quite up to dealing with a woman in my life full time. Now that I was completely commitment free, I was going to do my damnedest to enjoy the single life.

I may not be a spring chicken anymore, with my black hair graying at the temples and more than a few newfound wrinkles on my tanned face, but I still keep myself in tip top shape and I wasn't that half bad looking. Besides, I knew from past experiences that lots of hot young things go for the ruggedly handsome and fit older guy.

Ahh, thank the Good Lord for girls with daddy issues...

If push came to shove, I wasn't above contracting some well paid professionals for some good old fashioned fun either. I'd done it before, here in the states and abroad.

'If I want real, lasting companionship, I'm better off sticking with the dog. It would probably end up being less stressful and much cheaper.'

Of course, all of this musing on what I was going to do with my life just served to distract me from my extreme displeasure at being discharged. I was pissed off and confused as hell to be completely honest. I had believed that I would be a Marine until I died or was physically forced into retirement. Being medically discharged just felt like ... I had failed somehow.

I know that it's not logical, but it's how I felt God dammit.

Plus, I didn't really know how to live as a civilian anymore and I certainly didn't have any other marketable skills besides being a soldier. Getting a normal nine to five job really didn't appeal to me and I seriously doubted that, even if I could get a halfway decent one, I would be willing or able to stick with it for that long. The boredom would certainly kill me, or at least force me to kill everybody that just happened to be around me.

Not exactly something you want to admit in an interview or put on your résumé.

On the other hand, I'd seen some of the broken down and drunken train wrecks some discharged soldiers had turned into, trying to live a civilian life. I had absolutely no intentions of following in their footsteps.

I did have a few acquaintances in the private security sector and a good friend working with several civilian police departments. Both paid skilled individuals reasonably well.

'Maybe I can make some calls and test the waters -'

And that's when my train of thought was interrupted by a blinding light from above.

"Mister Ford. Mister Michael Ford, please wake up sir."

I was coming out of it again and this time there was no resistance. Consciousness came quickly, easily and without pain.

It felt as if I was still in the same place, but of course I couldn't be sure, just as I couldn't be sure of how much time had passed. At least I wasn't completely exposed anymore, as I could feel a soft and light sheet covering me from my chest down. Flexing my limbs slightly, I could tell that I wasn't restrained, so that was a good sign.

I cracked my eyes openly slowly, letting them to adapt to the bright light overhead. There was a human-sized shape leaning slightly over my right side. As my sight adapted and came back into focus, more and more details became readily apparent.

Whatever the shape was, it certainly wasn't human.

A large dark nose dominated the center of its face, and its mouth and eyes seemed a bit too small, especially compared to the size of its ears, riding high on the sides of its head. Its entire body, at least what I could see of it, was covered in short, fine layer of dark grey and brown fur.

It was also clearly wounded, with a swollen and busted lip, the surrounding fur stained with dried red blood, and the area around one of its eyes was beginning to darken and swell shut. It was clothed in what seemed to be a dark green flight-suit, covered in numerous pockets, a few unfamiliar insignias and indecipherable writing. It too had taken its fair share of abuse, being quite worn, torn and bearing several stains.

'A uniform of some sort, ' I guessed, trying desperately to make sense of what I was seeing.

I didn't have much success.

"You're not human," I managed to rasp out. I swallowed, desperately trying to rehydrate my mouth.

"No, I'm not." It said in a decidedly male, if a bit high-pitched voice, and then sighed in evident relief. "My name is Feng Vath and I am what you would call an extraterrestrial."

In a flash of insight, I realized that instead of some sort of chimp, several million years ago his ancient ancestor was most likely an animal resembling a koala bear. In fact, once I mentally decided that this was most probably true, his looks and mere existence were immediately much easier to accept.

We Marines excel at adapting to whatever situation we might come across, but I admit that this one was really stretching my ability to do so.

Silence followed for several moments as we simply looked at each other.

"So ... is this how you usually introduce yourself to people, Feng Vath? Because if it is, you really have a thing or two to learn about manners and common courtesy."

I seemed to be accepting this whole situation a lot better than I expected – there was confusion and worry, but no actual fear. I tried to summon up some burning anger and righteous indignation at having been abducted, but all I managed was some luke-warm irritation.

"You've done something to me haven't you? I'm not reacting as I should."

"Yes, we have. I'm sorry." And it actually looked like he was. He might not have been human, but I could clearly see the embarrassment on his face and in his posture.

There was something else there also. Something that I had seen before in war - desperation stemming from fear.

"It was unfortunately necessary. Please do not worry, the effects should pass shortly."

I started to sit up, but he placed a hand on my shoulder to stop me.

"No, don't move yet. Wait a few moments for your strength and coordination to return fully." I got a good look at his hands then – he had five digits like me, but the first two opposed the remaining three, giving him the appearance of having three fingers and two thumbs.

'Tree climbers, ' a part of my mind reasoned.

He then pressed something on the side of the bed and I felt it silently and smoothly shift to put me into a comfortable reclining position. I was appreciative, seeing as I felt weak as a kitten, but of course, I didn't let it show. I had been taken against my will, after all – was now a prisoner most likely. Maybe even some sort of guinea-pig meant for experimentation. Of course, that never ended particularly well for the guinea-pig.

I had to stay on guard, assess the situation and find out what the hell was going on. Only when I recovered enough, would I act and then these aliens would see what messing with a United States Marine gets them.

If he took even one step toward me with an anal probe, I'd rip his arboreal arm off and beat him to death with it.

I took a moment to take in my surroundings. The room was shaped like a large kidney, no right angles or corners at all, with the walls curving gently into the ceilings and floors. Even the couple of doors I could see were circular in shape. Instead of a few individual sources, the light seemed to emanate evenly from the entire ceiling. A large number of unidentifiable, but obviously high-tech, equipment, material and read-outs made the large room feel much smaller. They were all arranged around nine beds, including the one that I now occupied. All of the surfaces were of a sterile white, the only color being the occasional light blue and green of the beds, a veritable rainbow of lights from several screen readouts, and the cold steel gray of the equipment.

Though the place had a decidedly alien design and there was no smell of antiseptic in the air, I certainly recognized it as a hospital of some kind.

A few cots away I saw one of Feng Vath's people, seemingly unconscious and in bad shape – much worse off than him at least. Its visible wounds were covered in what looked like a thin layer of hardened blue gel and large swaths of its fur was missing. Burned away, I realized thanks to the very slight smell still lingering in the air.

That confused and seriously worried me.

I understandably had a million questions racing through my mind. Where the hell could I start?

"My mind's a bit on overdrive right now. Why don't you just explain what you're doing here and what you want from me?"

"Very well. We are Marsubarans," Feng Vath said, gesturing to himself and his unconscious companion. His voice had taken on a tone that I was pretty familiar with – that of a professional in his field rattling off a well prepared and rehearsed speech. "We are part of a group of travelers – mostly scientists and researchers - from a star-system dozens of thousands of your light-years away.

"We happened to discover your solar system while on a long term voyage of exploration and colonization. Understand that finding a civilization at your technological level is quite rare – at the very technological and social cusp of beginning to colonize your solar system." He shrugged at seeing my confused expression. "After reaching a certain population size and technological development, civilizations tend to have serious difficulties in keeping from culturally backsliding or outright self-destructing. The vast majority of advanced pre-FTL civilizations encountered are either just entering into their information age, at best, or well into colonizing their own and nearby solar systems.

"In order to fully study and document humanity, we decided to establish a permanent station at a nearby binary star system, known to you as Alpha Centauri. Ever since then, we have been discretely observing and recording everything we could about your species, your history and your numerous, diverse cultures. In a few generations, once you established a permanent off-world foothold in your solar system, we hoped to make tentative first contact with humanity."

"So, stories about alien abductions are actually true..." I said after considering that little revelation for a few minutes.

"Yes, but not how you might think," he was quick to assure me, a bit uncomfortably I noticed. "It is true that we have abducted, as you say, a great deal of humans from around the entire planet, but with no nefarious intentions, I assure you. It was simply for biological study and sampling. The entire process is completely non-invasive and we followed the strictest of safety protocols to ensure that no individual was missed, no matter how temporarily, or ever harmed by the process. At least not physically..."

I gave him a hard, level stare. After a few moments of silence and not being able to meet my gaze, he sighed resignedly and continued.

"We use ... a weapon, you might call it, though a completely non-lethal one. It renders most living, sentient beings completely unconscious for a predetermined amount of time. It was used on you in fact, in order to bring you on board. The official name of the weapon in its native tongue is Tafit'Zakec'Nikil'Chet." Though he said the word slowly, I could tell that he had some difficulties in wrapping his mouth around the syllables. "A bit too lengthy and convoluted, so we simply call it "the Stunner".

"We eventually discovered that certain humans, a very small minority in fact, have a unique and extremely slight variation in their brain structures and chemistries, which somehow allows them to preserve some ... impressions of their abduction. Most could tell that something strange had happened and that something was wrong, but had no idea what. A very small percentage of those might even regain some semblance of consciousness during. After being returned, some individuals experienced highly fragmented and distorted memories of their time on the ship later on in their dreams. Unfortunately, these unexplained and unresolved impressions and memories sometimes led to cases of severe psychological and emotional distress."

I guess that he could see the growing anger in my expression since he leaned back away from me and hastily added, "I assure you, as soon as we discovered this adverse reaction in humans, we stopped any and all abductions and filed an official report to the manufacturers of the Stunner technology." He paused and sighed.

"Of course, due to the distances involved and the seemingly universal nature of bureaucracy, it might take some time for us to hear back on the issue. Even longer for them to send back some sort of solution to the problem, if they even deem it necessary."

I took several slow, deep, calming breathes. Clearly, my normal emotions and reactions were returning, but I really didn't need to lose my temper. I needed to stay calm and get more information. Besides, I believed him. Feng Vath seemed extremely embarrassed and troubled by contributing to doing harm to people, and was afraid of my reaction. I wasn't about to berate him, seeing how beat up and on edge he already was.

"All right ... if you're not abducting people any more, why the hell am I here?"

"It was not exactly our choice to restart the abductions." With a miserable expression he pulled out a stool from somewhere underneath my bed and took a seat closer to me.

"You are Michael Ford." He had removed a thin metal plate from a pocket. At first, it looked like some sort of rounded, almost oval clipboard, but after he touched its surface a couple times and seemingly studied it for a few moments, I got it. He was consulting some sort of tablet computer with a file on me.

It made sense – if they could travel the immense distances between the stars, they could certainly hack any private or governmental database to research me.

"You were an experienced soldier ... a "Marine" I believe the term is."

"No godammit!" I growled out at him. His eyes snapped back onto me and he leaned back on his seat in shock. Much more calmly, I continued. "It doesn't matter if I no longer wear the uniform; in my heart, mind and soul, I will always proudly be a United States Marine. Once a Marine, always a Marine." I'd actually already had this pep talk with myself a few times since being discharged.

"Ah, I apologize. I understand." His expression said otherwise. He was clearly a civilian. For a moment, I wondered if I would be able to better relate with an alien soldier. "Nevertheless, we are in need of a trained soldier, well experienced in combat. According to your file, you fit that description perfectly."

"Why the hell would you need a soldier? Don't you have any of your own?"

"Yes, we Marsubarans do have our own security forces, but there were ... complications. And now we find ourselves in dire need of outside assistance." He was really depressed now. By the unfocussed look in his eyes, he was remembering something. Something unpleasant I would guess.

"Around three months ago, another race discovered your star system and our activities in it. The Theissss." He hissed out the name, and I had some trouble understanding if it was actually pronounced that way or if it was simply due to the barely contained wrath I now saw burning in his eyes.

"An entire race of opportunistic thieves and double dealing manipulators, which lives solely for the accumulation of material wealth, power and prestige." He paused for a few moments, visibly trying to control his temper. When he continued, he was much calmer.

"They approached us in peace, posing as travelling traders. But after gaining access to our station over several days, they eventually attacked by surprise. Though we have superior technology and greater numbers, they are very skilled infiltrators and..." he seemed embarrassed now, "we had grown complacent. We were completely unprepared and our security was lax. They killed many of my people as they swarmed all over – males, females, children and elders alike. The rest they took as slaves." He looked me straight in the eyes and behind the unshed tears I saw sadness, fear and anger.

But there was also a glimmer of defiance and hope there.

The Marsubarans had been severely beaten and humiliated, but if Feng Vath was a typical example of his people, they were not ready to simply lie down and die.

I started to have a seriously bad feeling about what exactly he wanted me to do.

"They'll head for Earth next, won't they?" I asked, though I pretty much already knew the answer.

"Yes, they will." He answered, nodding seriously. "Rich in natural resources, new technologies and a plentiful, skilled and intelligent potential servitor race makes Earth a very attractive target. I'm sorry to say that it has been done many times before throughout the known universe. But they will not come for some time yet. They might have a technological advantage over humanity, but they have nowhere near the manpower or resources to lay siege on your entire planet. So, they will wait for reinforcements."

"How long?" I asked a bit distractedly.

Images of cities reduced to burning ruins, hundreds of thousands of slaughtered innocents littering the streets, and men, women and children in chains, serving the whims of some alien overlords kept flashing through my mind. I'm sure that we would give them a damn good fight, but I doubted if Earth and mankind as a whole was in any way prepared to repel an alien invasion, no matter what numerous sci-fi movies might portray.

"We have perhaps a little more than one of your years, maybe even as long as two, for the messenger to reach its final destination, their tribal leaders to reach some sort of consensus, amass and coordinate the necessary resources and personnel, and for the reinforcements to eventually arrive here." He ended with a depressed shrug. "This is just an estimate, of course."

I rubbed my forehead and then pinched the bridge of my nose. This was just all too much. My mind was reeling and I was starting to get a serious stress headache.

"Feng Vath, where are my clothes?" I was feeling much better now, so I moved to get up off the bed, being careful to keep the sheet wrapped around my waist.

"They're right here Mister Ford." He said walking over to the opposite wall and pressing a seemingly random spot. There was a low hiss and a large drawer slid out from the wall, from which he removed a clear lightweight box.

Looking around the room more closely, I now saw that there were several rows and columns of small, almost imperceptible bumps arrayed along the wall. They were obviously much more than just ornamental - a discrete and out-of-the-way storage system. Handy.

"And please, just call me Feng," he said, carrying the box towards me. He then placed it by my side and helped me get to my feet.

Though my strength had returned almost fully, my knees and back were killing me from lying down and not moving for an extended period of time. Just another price I had to pay from years of the physical stresses of combat, heavy training, and being violently knocked around on various occasions.

"As long as you can call me Mike, Feng." I responded, getting my first good look at his whole body.

First off, he was short, the top of his head just reaching my shoulders, and slimly built. His arms seemed proportionally longer than mine, his legs were visibly bowlegged, and when he walked around, his entire body lean forward slightly. He wore a type of sandals on his feet, so I could see that they were prehensile and structurally similar to his hands.

Going through the box's contents with one hand, while the other ensured that the sheet stayed where it should, it seemed as if everything that I had been wearing and carrying when I was abducted was there, including my cellphone, keys and wallet. Everything except...

"Where's my gun?" I asked suspiciously.

I normally carried a short barreled Dan Wesson .357 Magnum, in a holster (belt or shoulder, according to the circumstances and what I was wearing), just about everywhere I went. It was obviously missing from my belongings, along with my ka-bar combat knife.

Why carry a revolver, you might ask. Well, it's a relatively discrete and unassuming weapon and I wasn't really planning on getting into any gunfights. I was a civilian now after all. Anyways, a revolver is good enough to buy time until you reach an automatic, and eventually shotgun or a long gun.

To that end, I also had two Colt 1911 handguns, one hidden under the driver's seat of my pickup, the other in my bedside table. Then there was my Mossberg 500 hanging over the door to my trailer, and my Colt M4 Commando in a gun safe under my breakfast table – illegally modified for full-auto, I might add. More than enough for my private and what I had thought to be peaceful life.

Unfortunately, they weren't exactly handy at the moment.

Feng paused before answering, his eyes closed tight and his expression a mask of pain.

"That is Merin, the chief medical officer of this ship. And my wife." He gestured to the injured Marsubaran, asleep on the nearby bed. "She tried to conceal your weapons, but was caught. Then she was punished as a lesson to the rest of us."

"Fuck." That was the most appropriate response that I could think of. I truly felt sorry for them and angry at their treatment. They might be inhuman aliens, but they were still people. Sort of. "I'm very sorry Feng."

"She understood the risks, but was willing to do what was needed." He sighed mournfully and looked back at me. "It was her idea to ask you for your assistance, after we confirmed your identity."

"And what exactly do you need from me?" I asked while pulling up my boxers and pants. I know that he'd already seen me naked and I wasn't particularly body shy, but getting dressed put me somewhat at ease given the disturbing circumstances and surroundings.

"We are currently on a stealth surveillance and research ship in a stable high orbit around your planet. Our Theissss masters have forced us to restart abducting humans to study their physiology and biology in order to better combat, dominate and eventually use you," his expression was one of extreme distaste and shame, but he continued. "I'm sorry, but we were forced to do so, with none of the normal safeguards."

"How many people?" I asked, my anger rising once again. I'd seriously have to check my blood pressure after all this was over.

"Twelve over the last months." His voice was low and monotone and he was staring blankly at the wall. "Half were returned. They should suffer ... little long term ill effects."

That meant that half weren't returned. I squeezed my eyes shut as I imagined innocent and unsuspecting people being abducted and subjected to fatal experiments.

"Before then, many more were taken back to the station at Alpha Centauri. Several hundred individuals from the most remote areas on your planet. I ... do not know of their fate."

We just stood there in silence for a few minutes, stewing in our roiling, raw emotions. Now I understood why Feng had reacted as he did to many of my questions. Not only had he and his people been subjected to violence, death and subjugation, they had been then forced to help their oppressors do the very same to humans.

"You didn't have a choice Feng." I told him sincerely, putting my own anger aside.

"Yes we did. Just not a very good one." His hands came up to rub his face. His voice was tired. "I wish we could have been braver. Simply told them 'no, we won't do it, kill us if you will'. But we– no, I was afraid."

"Sometimes we do things we're not particularly proud of in order to survive or in order to guarantee the survival of others. You were looking after your people, Feng. Believe me, I understand."

"Thank you Mike." He sighed once again and smiled a little at me, for the first time, showing two rows of even, flat, white teeth.

"There are three Theissss on board to oversee and guard a dozen of us. There is a pilot, two engineers, a few doctors and the rest are scientists, of one kind or another. We do not have the skills, training or mindset to mount any kind of uprising." He paused, looking intently into my eyes. Though he was an alien and had had a hand in my abduction, I couldn't help but like and respect Feng.

"That is why we need you, Mike. You must please help us. Help my people back at Alpha Centauri and we will eventually help you and your world mount a defense in turn."

Yup, my bad feeling sure was right.

This whole thing was so far over my head, I'd need a telescope to be able to see it. I was just a simple Marine ... a jarhead. One which was past his prime, at that. Now I had the fate of an enslaved alien people in my hands, not to mention maybe even the rest of mankind.